


the way you look tonight

by remuslupin



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Angst, Canon Divergent, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-21
Updated: 2017-04-21
Packaged: 2018-10-22 03:11:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10688583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/remuslupin/pseuds/remuslupin
Summary: jughead still remembers the first time he’d visited new york with ronnie, feeling more than a little out of place as she’d marched ahead and flagged down a cab with a smooth whistle.the lights of times square had almost shone as bright as her smile when they’d walked down the streets of the city hand in hand later that night. but he doesn’t think he’ll ever see a sight more beautiful than veronica lodge, barefoot, and in her best silk nightdress, dancing with him in their living room at three in the morning.





	the way you look tonight

**Author's Note:**

> I DON'T KNOW IF I LIKE THIS since it was a relatively spontaneous thing that stemmed from me listening to the nyc pure jazz radio buuut there's minimal jeronica content out there anyway so, might as well post it! 
> 
> the premise is post high school; ronnie & jug live together & veronica refused to do something for hiram despite his numerous pleas & bribes so he got hermione incarcerated. i'm bad at explaining but you'll probably get it once you read the fic ok yes pls sit back & enjoy these good hets

‘HERMIONE LODGE, WIFE OF CORPORATE EMBEZZLER HIRAM LODGE, HAS BEEN SENTENCED TO 20 YEARS IN--’ the words distort across the front page of the newspaper as veronica crushes it ruthlessly in her hands and allows it to slip from her grasp. it still has not yet fallen to the floor when she turns away with the intention of moving towards the windows, instead.

the radio crackles with each step she takes away from it-- the pure jazz radio has never had fantastic reception in this part of the city, anyway. the consequence of pulling the french doors of the balcony open, however, is that the quiet music is drowned out by the constant stream of noise that stems from the new york cityscape below her apartment, but she makes no move to step back inside just yet. 

her apartment feels like a  _ prison _ , her father’s latest gift (sent only days before this particular newspaper had been released; how he’d discovered her address  _ again,  _ she isn’t sure) still sitting in its decadent box and threatening to wind its way around her neck and constrict,  _ constrict _ ,  **_constrict_ ** , if she dares touch it again. she wishes that she could say she was surprised to realise that he had finally followed through on the underlying promise he’d made back when she had been in high school, the promise that he would incarcerate his own  _ wife  _ if veronica did not bend to his will _ , _ but–    
  
it would seem as if nothing hiram lodge did could muster up her surprise anymore.

she’s looked over the cover of that newspaper, now in a crumpled heap on the ground, almost a million times since it had been delivered to her mailbox the morning before, and reading the article still has not gotten any easier-- she can hardly make it three sentences in before beginning to feel queasy, as if she should have done more, done better, done  _ anything _ at all. 

but she hadn’t. and hiram had made her  _ mother _ atone for her mistakes. 

for a moment, she watches as cars weave amongst each other atop roads and lights flicker on and off on the sides of buildings, advertising wicked and cell phones and fast food joints, and for perhaps the first time in her life, veronica starts thinking that it’s all too fast and too much and she can’t  _ breathe _ \-- 

she doesn’t realise that she’s crying until she finally spins hastily on her heel to turn back towards her living room and catches sight of tears streaking her cheeks in the reflection of the windows. with a heaving sigh, she lifts a hand to wipe at her face, and doesn’t even notice that she isn’t alone until a light is flicked on and she finds herself standing only meters away from jughead jones.

“--hey,” she starts quietly, tip toeing back through the threshold before pulling the door shut behind her. silence washes over the pair for a moment longer before she sniffles half-heartedly, and makes another attempt to scrub away her tears. “what are you doing?”

he gestures towards the bedroom--  _ their  _ bedroom-- awkwardly, brows furrowed. “i woke up, and you were gone. are you okay?” jughead asks, expression so gentle and warm and  _ sincere  _ that veronica almost feels like bursting into tears again.

but veronica lodge is-- well. she’s veronica goddamn lodge. her parents are  _ not  _ going to be her downfall. 

“my mother has been arrested.”  _ he already knows that _ . “...and i think my father’s to blame.” ‘think’ is an awfully weak word.

as he passes by the radio in his journey to close the distance between the two of them, his hand ghosts over the knob controlling the volume and turns it up with a sharp flick of his fingertips. 

the orchestration introduction of just about the only jazz song that he’s ever bothered to listen to more than once (without veronica’s influence, at least) begins to filter through the speakers of the expensive stereo system, now, and a small smile quirks veronica’s lips upwards despite her current mood. 

“i like this song.”

“well, luckily enough,” he starts, reaching out to take her hand and place it atop his shoulder, before taking the other in his own and winding his remaining hand around her waist, “i  _ know  _ this song.” 

“jughead jones,” veronica hums after frank sinatra’s dulcet tones have finally begun to stream through the speakers, gazing up at him with pure  _ amusement  _ as he begins to sway them both, “are you  _ dancing  _ with me?”

he still remembers the first time he’d visited new york with ronnie, feeling more than a little out of place as she’d marched ahead and flagged down a cab with a smooth whistle. the lights of times square had almost shone as bright as her smile when they’d walked down the streets of the city hand in hand later that night. but he doesn’t think he’ll ever see a sight more beautiful than veronica lodge, barefoot, and in her best silk nightdress, dancing with him in their living room at three in the morning. he cranes his neck downwards, now, nose brushing against her hair as he parts his lips to answer her. “maybe.”

it doesn’t take long before she’s completely relaxing her demeanour beneath his gaze, smile never quite fading away as they waltz beneath the soft illumination of the city lights and the lamp that jughead had turned on to light his way towards her.

when he finally gathers enough courage to try spinning her, she responds with a startled and  _ breathless  _ laugh, hand swiftly gravitating back towards jughead’s shoulder to steady herself once she’s finished. 

in no way has jughead ever considered himself a singer, let alone one who’s even  _ half _ as good as veronica, but he figures that the attempt will make her happy either way-- which is the only reasoning he maintains in his mind when his soft humming slowly transitions into lyrics. “yes, you’re lovely, with your smile so warm, and your cheeks so soft, there is nothing for me but to love you…” his whisperings slowly turn into a gentle, tuneless murmur as he leans in and nudges their noses together, before bringing them to an eventual halt. “and the way you look tonight.”

“you,” ronnie starts, rising onto her toes to bestow him with a proper kiss, “are too much. never change.”

“and  _ you _ ,” he returns quietly, lifting their joined hands and holding them to his chest, to his heart, “are going to be okay. i know you will be. you survived everything that riverdale threw at you, and you’re going to get through this. i  _ promise _ .”

tomorrow will be a new day. when the sun rises, veronica will have to face the repercussions of hiram’s actions once more. a new day, however, brings new horizons; new beginnings. the darkness of the night will always give way to the tranquil dawn; and even when it does, jughead jones will be in love with veronica lodge.

**Author's Note:**

> hope you enjoyed! kudos & reviews are much appreciated!


End file.
